


The Best Laid Plan

by Sawsha12



Category: Inception (2010)
Genre: Domestic, Established Relationship, Fluff, Humor, Kink Meme, M/M, Sleep Deprivation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-02-12
Updated: 2011-02-12
Packaged: 2017-10-22 20:37:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,087
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/242327
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sawsha12/pseuds/Sawsha12
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The requirements for working in the dream business are, agility, cleverness, adaptation, alertness, and among other things. Nobody said anything about needing those abilities for pest control.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Best Laid Plan

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: Characters are not mine  
> Warning: minor language, innuendo, establish relationship  
> A/N: written for a prompt at the Inception_kink - There’s a mouse in their home. One of them is against mouse traps and the other is against poisoning. This leads to them trying to catch the mouse in various ways and failing. After so many failed attempts and the mouse getting a little boulder, appearing at places it never use too, they decide to keep it as a pet.

  
_  
_   


**The Uninvited Guest  
**  
The requirements for working in the dream business were agility, cleverness, adaptation, alertness, and among other things, the ability to be a light sleeper. Having these abilities might ensure your life a few more years.

Arthur awoke by the light scratching noise. His eyes opened fluently, instantly alert. He sat up, looking around the bedroom. His movement jostled the man sleeping next to him.

“Arthur,” muttered Eames into his pillow. He reached for Arthur blindly. “What’s going…” The scratching noise appeared again. Eames snapped open his eyes and sat up with Arthur.

They sat silently up in the bed they shared, scanning the room for the light scratching noise that woke them. The light noise stopped. They sat for a second, straining to hear. Arthur patted Eames on the shoulder, getting the forger’s attention. He brought a finger to his lips, indicating they should remain silent. Then he pointed to his eyes and gestured to the doorway of their room.

Eames nodded silently in agreement and reached for the gun he kept in the drawer. Arthur reached for his gun under his pillow. Together they got out of bed and pattered on silent feet towards the door. Eames pointed for Arthur to go one way to explore the other rooms in their home, while he went towards the living room and kitchen.

The home was bought several years ago as a safe haven for both Arthur and Eames when they weren’t working. But the location could be compromised if someone was determined enough. Both, Arthur and Eames were on plenty of people’s hit list.

How could they be found so soon and so easily? Arthur thought as he kept his gun trained on potential invaders. He made sure no one knew about this house. Even Cobb didn’t know about this place. If they were compromised, they would need to find another home. Arthur would NOT be happy if it came to that.

Their home wasn’t in complete darkness. Moonlight and the pale light radiating from the streetlamp streamed through the shuttered windows, creating shadows. Arthur cleared the study, and then he worked towards the guest room.

Movement caught the corner of his eye, along with the same scratching noise. Already stressed about the situation, Arthur’s instincts took over. He turned, aimed, and shot. Questions would be asked later.

The shot reverberated throughout the house. Arthur heard Eames swore somewhere before he barged into the room, his gun pointing left then right.

Arthur blinked at the bullet hole at the base of the wall when Eames turned on the light. No one else was present in the room with them. He glared, lowering his gun a fraction. He knew he saw something.

“Arthur, what happened?” Eames stepped next to Arthur, covering his back.

“It must have been the shadows.” Arthur was puzzled.

Eames snorted. “Never figured you to be trigger happy, love.”

Arthur sighed with exasperation. Then that noise appeared again. As one, they turned with their guns to see a bald tail disappear out the door.

“Looks like we have an uninvited guest.” Eames grinned as he straightened and lowered his gun completely.

“Great, just fucking great.” Arthur brought his free hand up to scrub his face. “A mouse. Honestly, it’s too early in the morning for this.”

 **The Planning  
**  
Arthur placed a pot over the stove then gathered the tea things together. Yes, they had a tea set, damn it! “We have to get rid of the mouse.”

“You’re not going to get an argument out of me, darling.” Eames accepted the cup of tea. Arthur knew exactly how he took his tea. It was always perfect. “Should we call the exterminator?”

“No.” Arthur shook his head as he took a sip of his own tea. “The fewer people who know about this place the better.” He was still coming down from the adrenalin coursing through his veins.

“Arthur, it’s the exterminator,” said Eames levelly. “I get that you want to keep this place a secret, but you’re becoming paranoid – well, more paranoid than usual.”

“I want to keep _us_ safe,” countered Arthur.

Eames paused, understanding Arthur’s implication before he brought the cup to his lip. “Ok, we can go on a mouse hunt. How hard could it be really? We can set out poison – problem solved.”

“No,” said Arthur sternly. “We’re not setting out poison.”

Eames looked genuinely baffled. “Why not? It’s very effective. I’ve used rat poison before, and it took care of the nasty vermin.”

“It’s cruel,” explained Arthur simply.

“I beg your pardon?” Eames couldn’t quite keep the shock out of his voice.

“Have you ever seen a mouse being poisoned to death?”

Eames shook his head.

“First off, rodents never take enough poison for an instant death. After ingesting the poison, it may take the rodent days to weeks to die. They slowly die from internal bleeding. They suffer, and it’s simply cruel.” Arthur paused before indicating another point. “Then when they do die, most likely they’ll choose the most unlucky place – where we can’t find it. This place will reek when it starts to decay.”

“It’s actually frightening that you know these facts.” Eames propped an elbow on the table and rested his chin on the palm of his hand. He looked at Arthur fondly. “This must be a night of revelation. I’m imagining you with one of those poster boards on a stick, fighting against animal cruelty.”

Arthur gave Eames a _you are an idiot_ look. “Not. Funny. Eames.”

“What do you propose we do instead of poison?” Eames held back his laughter but couldn’t keep a toothy grin from his lips.

“Traps,” said Arthur simply. “They get the job done and are easy to clean.”

“I’m against that, Arthur.” Eames couldn’t prevent a shudder. His smile faltered slightly. “We’re not using traps.”

“Why?” Arthur was curious in hearing Eames’ explanation.

“Have you ever seen a mouse decapitated?”

Arthur nodded, still wondering what the big deal was.

“It’s gruesome,” stressed Eames, “seeing its wee little head off its wee little body or its body snapped into two. Terrible.”

“Need I remind you Eames that we kill while dream sharing all the time? We should be desensitized by gore.”

“That’s beside the point.”

“There are traps where the body is encased,” suggested Arthur. “You won’t need to see the body.”

“Don’t matter. No. Traps.” Eames statements sounded final.

They both sighed, sitting in silence while sipping tea. Sometimes they heard a skittering of feet across the floor somewhere in the house. The mouse was still there. They finished the tea and continued to sit.

Eames finally broke the silence. “We could leave the mouse alone. You know, if you leave me alone, I’ll leave you alone sort of thing.”

“Absolutely not.” Arthur began to clear away the tea things. “Rodents are carriers of all sorts of diseases…”

“Alright, Alright.” Eames reached for Arthur’s hand and brought it to his lips. “I’ll think of something that won’t entail poison or traps. All it’ll take is a little imagination. So why don’t we go back to bed? We’ll come up with a plan later.”

“You know I can’t fall back to sleep once I’m awake.” Arthur had strange sleeping habits from the prolong use of the PASIV. He was lucky he didn’t have insomnia, but he came close.

“I’m sorry love.” Eames sounded sympathetic as he tugged on Arthur’s hand. “Come rest on the couch with me. We can watch the telly.”

Arthur let himself be lead towards the couch. He allowed Eames to gather him close, and he positioned himself so that his head rested on Eames’ shoulder. Arthur reached for the remote and turned on the TV to a program that looked appealing.

Arthur noticed Eames tilting his head back. His eyes closed. Arthur turned down the volume and continued to watch the screen. Eames didn’t have the same sleeping problem as Arthur. He didn’t want to rob Eames of sleep.

Arthur blinked, letting his mind wander. There might be a chance he would fall asleep to the drone of the television, though he highly doubted it. Somewhere in the house, Arthur heard the light scratching again. He sighed and began thinking of ways to catch the mouse instead.

 **Plan A  
**  
“Arthur? Darling, what exactly are you doing?” Eames stuck his head into the study where he found the furniture skewed from the wall. Arthur knelt on the ground with a pail of plaster.

“What does it look like I’m doing?” Arthur used the rest of the night while Eames slept to search room by room. The mouse must have found a way to enter their home. If he clogged that entrance, the mouse would not come in.

“Well…” Eames leaned against the doorframe and sported an impish look of amusement. “I see the love of my life on his knees wearing jeans and a t-shirt – a look that I wish I could see more often – and having smudges of plaster on his right cheek. It looks to me you’re trying to seduce me by doing manual labor.”

Arthur looked up at Eames. His unkempt hair dangled near his eyes. He smiled, showing a dimple. He placed the spade down and stood. He came closer to Eames and wrapped his arm around his neck, bringing them closer for a kiss.

“Good morning to you too.” Arthur practically purred after their kiss.

“How many holes did you find?” asked Eames as he ran a thumb over Arthur’s smudged cheek.

“Two.” Suddenly Arthur sounded weary, leaning into Eames’ touch. “I haven’t checked the living room or the kitchen.”

Eames frowned and gave Arthur a hard look. “Arthur, did you get anymore sleep?”

Arthur responded by shaking his head. It was the nature of his sleeping habits.

“Right then. Here is what we’re going to do.” Eames placed both of his hands on Arthur’s shoulder and began steering him out the room. “We’re going to take a shower. Then I’m going to make you the coffee that you’re so fond of and breakfast while you rest. Depending on how you look, we’ll finish the rest of the living space.”

“We’re going to take a shower?” Arthur raised a questioning brow while he turned his head to look at Eames.

Eames leaned in and nuzzled Arthur behind his ear before planting a kiss on his neck. “I figured you’d catch that. Well, someone has to make sure all the smudges are off.”

“And that person is you, Mr. Eames?”

“Oh, bloody yes,” growled Eames into Arthur’s ear. “I’ll be extra thorough to your satisfaction.”

Arthur laughed as Eames shut the bathroom door.

Arthur’s idea appeared to work. They finished their inspection on the rest of the house throughout the day and set everything right by bedtime. That night Arthur received a full night of sleep without interruption.

“Looks like your plan worked,” said Eames over breakfast.

“Looks like it. Thank God.” Arthur hummed over his cup of coffee, looking relieved. He wouldn’t know what else to do if this didn’t work.

“We should celebrate your accomplishment in front of the telly.” Eames wiggled his eyebrows. “What do you say?”

Arthur shrugged and joined Eames on the couch. Eames took charge of the remote and turned on the television. The flat screen went on, but there wasn’t any picture. They could hear hissing sounds and sparks behind the television.

Eames rushed to see what was going on and swore, “Bloody hell, Arthur. You’re not going to believe this.”

Baffled, Arthur rose and peered around Eames. He tensed at seeing the opening where the cable exiting the house was chewed. Some of the other cables were gnawed through as well. Arthur glared with dismay. His fingers twitched with frustration.

Arthur heard Eames jingling the keys and looked up. “You, where the hell are you going?” He didn’t intend to snap, but he was angry.

Eames gave Arthur a strain smile. He wasn’t happy about what happened either. “I’m going to the electronic store to get more cable. You look like you’re about to murder something. Seeing that I’m the only living thing here…” Eames let that thought trail off as Arthur’s glare intensified. “Besides, Arthur, you’re better at electronics and wiring than I am.”

 _We need another plan_ , thought Arthur as he began disconnecting and untangling the wires.

 **Plan B  
**  
“Eames, what the hell is that?” inquired Arthur when Eames stepped through the door, cradling something small and furry against his chest.

“This is the answer to our little pest problem,” rang Eames triumphantly.

Arthur looked skeptical. “You do realize that that’s a kitten.”

“Yes, I did realize that. Thank you, Arthur,” said Eames dryly. He brought the small kitten up and kissed the side of its face. “Her name is Paws. When I saw this gem, I couldn’t resist. Adorable, isn’t she?”

Arthur highly doubted a mere kitten would solve their problem. But when he saw Eames cuddling Paws, he didn’t have the heart to say it. Instead, he said, “Paws is usually a dog’s name...”

“She has a complex,” said Eames with a shrug before handing the kitten to Arthur. “Here, let daddy have a look at you.”

Arthur accepted the kitten in his hand. He immediately brought her closer to his chest when he felt her tremble. Paws had rice white fur with the tip of her ears and a tail colored black. Her paws were dusted gray. She mewed and looked up at Arthur where he noticed she had the bluest eyes.

Arthur rubbed a finger under Paws’ chin and neck. She let out a purr of approval, her eyes half closed in bliss. Arthur sighed knowing he caved. He placed Paws on the ground and watched her play with the fray tassels on the rug. She was at least bigger than the mouse, or else he would worry about the mouse attacking her.

“I’m going to step out for a bit.” Arthur sidestepped around Eames and grabbed the keys.

“Where are you going?” Eames had a hint of worry in his voice.

“Since I noticed the lack of kitty supplies with you,” started Arthur, “I thought it might be a good idea to get some since we have a kitten now.”

Eames brightened with a grin, understanding that Arthur accepted Paws. “I’ll come with you. We’ll leave Paws here and maybe she’ll catch that mouse while we’re gone.” Eames knelt down and reached to roll Paws on her back so he could tickle her stomach. “You’re going to do your Papa and Daddy proud, huh pretty girl?”

Arthur pinched the bridge of his noise at hearing Eames babble such nonsense. He didn’t realize Eames was such a cat person. Arthur had a sneaky suspicion Eames used the mouse as an excuse to get a cat.

“Come along, Papa.” Arthur tugged Eames back to his feet. He didn’t quite agree leaving Paws home alone, but how much trouble could a tiny kitten get into while they were away?

Three hours later, they returned with the kitty essentials. When they opened the door to their home, they were greeted with a mess. Paws managed to tip the garbage bin in the kitchen and decided to explore through the trash, spreading it far across the floor. Dirty paw prints were all over the rug. Paws managed to knock some files off the table, scattering some documents. Some of the papers had more paw prints on them. There were obvious scratches on the leather couch with one of the pillows torn open.

“Don’t get angry, Arthur. I’ll take care of it. Don’t worry,” said Eames fairly quickly as he moved towards the kitchen.

At least Eames took responsibility, thought Arthur as he started to gather the papers. He wasn’t angry; he just took the situation as it was – self-induced chaos. A small meow caught his attention. He paused and took a quick glace at the couch. There, hidden behind the ruined pillow, was Paws.

Arthur rested his arm on the couch to pillow his head. “I don’t suppose you caught the mouse, did you?”

Paws padded closer to Arthur. Her steps were clumsy and uneven as she navigated the cushion. She tilted her head as she peered back at Arthur.

In the kitchen, Eames swore, “Damn it! The mouse is in messing with our trash!”

Arthur snorted. “I guess not. If I didn’t know better, Paws, you and that mouse were conspiring against us.”

Paws placed two furry paws on Arthur’s arm and licked his nose for an answer. It was time for a new plan.

 **Plan C & D  
**  
“I thought you were against traps, Eames.” Arthur watched as Eames placed a cardboard box over some crumbs of cheese.

“This is not a _mouse_ trap.” Eames wrapped string around one of those plush erasers. Then he propped the box open with that eraser.

“I’ve seen the Bugs Bunny cartoons with Elmer Fudd in them. That is most definitely a trap you’re trying to set up.” Arthur unwrapped his arms so that he could bring a hand up to rub his forehead.

Days without a full night’s sleep caused Arthur to have a low-grade headache – nothing too incapacitating, but enough to become an annoyance. Eames at one point suggested earplugs, but he declined. He would hate to have a surprise encounter from his enemies because he didn’t hear them coming.

Eames paused in order to look at Arthur behind his shoulder. “You watch cartoons?”

Arthur rolled his eyes. “Yes, I watched cartoons at one point in my life. God, Eames, I do live a human life.”

Eames bit back the retort he wanted to say. Instead he stated, “This is the nonviolent trap. We wait until the mouse goes in to get a nibble. Then we pull the string, and the box drops shut. Brilliant, yeah?”

“This is very…cartoonish.” Arthur had troubles describing this whole plan.

“ _Creative_ is what this is.” Eames winked at Arthur. “This will work.”

Arthur shook his head, having more doubts than ever since this all started. “So who, pray tell, is going to pull the string. And don’t say Paws.”

“Well…” Eames looked sheepish. He made his way to the closet and started pulling out the sleeping bags and extra blankets. “I was thinking we camp out here in the living room. Since you’re a light sleeper, you’ll probably wake up when the mouse approaches. That would be your chance to capture the mouse.”

Arthur blinked. “So you want me to sleep in the living room and be vigilant.” The pounding in his head intensified.

“Not alone,” reassured Eames, knowing how close Arthur was to hurting him. “I’m staying with you. It’ll be fun, darling, just like camping.”

Arthur grumbled, “I’m glad someone is having fun.” He went to help Eames pull out the sleeping bags and arranged the blankets and pillows.

It was near three in the morning when Arthur woke to the familiar scratching noise. He thought he heard the mouse scraping for the cheese around the box. Arthur carefully and slowly lifted his head and turned to peer around the corner where the trap was set. Unfortunately, the room was too dark to see clearly. Arthur decided to take the chance and pulled the string. The box tipped close with a clatter.

“Did we get it,” mumbled Eames sleepily. He aroused from the noise.

“I don’t know.” Arthur already got off of Eames to check the box. When he came around the corner, he saw the mouse scampering quickly behind the refrigerator. He shook his head. “No, we didn’t.”

Arthur came back to Eames to push him to his feet. “Let’s go to bed. You’ll be more comfortable.”

“What about you?” asked Eames with a yawn.

“Don’t worry about me. I’m going to do some research.” Arthur pushed Eames into their bed while he gathered his laptop. This night was a wash, and Arthur was going to make good use for the rest of the time. If Eames didn’t oppose to nonviolent traps, Arthur was certain he could come up with a better idea.

When morning rolled around, Arthur found the perfect trap. He smiled to himself as he shut down his laptop and placed it aside. He quickly glanced over at Eames, who was sound asleep, before slipping out of their bedroom. He had work to do.

By the time Eames awoke, Arthur had already set his trap. Eames groaned at the sight. “Please tell me you took a nap.”

Arthur shook his head. “No, but I did some research…”

“Of course you did, darling,” commented Eames as he went over to kiss Arthur good morning.

Arthur pressed on as if he wasn’t interrupted. “And I drew this design and built it. I just finished. What do you think?”

Eames squinted at the design. “It looks a little flimsy.” Eames automatically dodged Arthur’s fist with a chuckle. The lack of sleep made Arthur crankier lately, and Eames couldn’t help nudging Arthur at moments. “I’ll stop poking fun, love.” He held up his hands with his palms up in surrender.

Eames crouched down by the elaborate trap and gave a low whistle. “I can guess the mechanics to this. So the mouse runs up this ramp that leads to the trash bin. On the platform, we have a tube with some treats. When the mouse crawls into the tube, its weight will tip the thing and the mouse will go tumbling into the bin. Right?”

Arthur nodded once.

“I think this might work.”

Paws chose that moment to come off the couch to investigate what the boys were up to. She came in contact with Arthur’s trap and decided that it was her new plaything. She attempted to climb up the ramp, which immediately began to bow under her weight. She toppled to the ground with an upset yowl.

“On second thought,” said Eames with a smirk as he tried to soothe Paws.

“Shut up,” demanded Arthur as an annoying ticked worked over his right eyebrow. He needed something stronger than cardboard. “We have to put Paws in the spare room if this thing is going to work.”

Eames knew better than to argue. He quietly took Paws away while Arthur seethed silently.

The mouse didn’t appear throughout the day, but Arthur wasn’t worried. He moved the trap into the kitchen where he suspected the mouse would likely explore. He was excited when he got ready for bed, thinking this might be the last night of disrupted sleep. He sighed. With Eames settled beside him, Arthur fell asleep.

On schedule, Arthur woke up when he heard the scratching noise from beyond the room. He forced his body to relax as he strained to hear – scratch, scratch, pause…scratch, pause, scratch.

Arthur blinked at the ceiling. After days, one would think he would get use to the sound. He gritted his teeth in frustration as he resisted the urge to leave the bedroom to check the trap.

To distract himself, Arthur carefully rolled onto his side to face Eames. An affectionate smile graced Arthur’s lips as he looked at Eames’ sleeping form. His lover also slept on his side, facing Arthur. Eames’ lashes fluttered in natural REM sleep. His lips slightly parted, breathing softly. One of Eames’ arms was out on top of the cover, his hand bridging the gap between them.

Arthur squirmed enough to free one arm from under the sheets. He reached to hover a touch over the bridge of Eames’ nose. Eames shifted slightly and turned his face more into the pillow, smacking his lips. Arthur grinned in the dark as he reached to hover another touch over the shell of Eames’ ear.

This had been an ongoing game that Eames had no idea Arthur played. Every now and then, when Arthur awoke because of something or another, he would watch Eames sleep to pass the time. Then watching became light touching. He was curious what touches he could get away without waking Eames.

Once or twice Arthur would slip, waking Eames. However, those were rare. During those occasions, it usually ended with Arthur thoroughly fucked. That wasn’t Arthur’s goal. He was content with watching Eames.

Morning came, and Arthur knew the exact moment when Eames awoke. The changes in breathing rhythm, the fluttering of eyelids were clear indications, even though Eames kept still with his eyes close.

“You know,” said Eames, his voice rough from sleep. “It’s creepy that you watch me sleep.”

“Does that bother you?” Arthur watched as Eames blinked his eyes open.

Instead of answering, Eames shifted closer and brushed his fingers through Arthur’s hair before planting a kiss on Arthur’s forehead. Arthur sighed, soothed by the sensation.

“Come along,” said Eames, his tone light. “I know you’re anxious to see if your trap worked.”

Arthur nearly forgot. He threw the cover aside and followed Eames out the bedroom. He arrived at the kitchen in time to hear Eames snicker. Frowning, Arthur stepped around Eames and peered down at the trap.

The trashcan was empty. That was the first thing Arthur noticed, but that wasn’t what Eames was laughing at. The tube at the top leading over the trashcan was nudged so the end with the food was turned safely on the platform. The bait, of course, was gone except for a trail of crumbs leading down the ramp.

“Looks like our little buddy just outsmarted you, love.” Eames pointed at some mouse dropping on the platform. “And it left us a present that all but shouts ‘screw you’ to our faces.”

“Damn,” muttered Arthur as he dropped his head in his hand. “This is worse than _any_ job I’ve been in.”

 **Mouse; Game, Set & Match  
**  
Arthur barely stepped out of the shower, finally getting the tension in his shoulders to relax a margin. Then he heard a crash: Eames yelling and Paws screeching. The tension snapped back into his shoulders within seconds. He dashed out of the bathroom while wrapping a towel around his waist in order to investigate. His wet hair flopped into his eyes.

As soon as he stepped into the living room, Paws shot past him in a dead run into the bedroom. Arthur looked up to see Eames in the kitchen with a rolled up newspaper. Eames slouched and repetitively slammed the newspaper down on the ground, moving up and along the length of the kitchen.

Cereal and milk were spread along the counter and onto the floor. Arthur heard the cereal crunch with every step Eames took and with every strike of the newspaper.

“Damn that bleeding rodent,” growled Eames as he straightened. He breathed hard from the exertion or anger – maybe a combination of both. “It found its way into the cereal box.”

Arthur spotted the cereal box on the counter. He saw the small hole in the corner. He didn’t need an imagination to see Eames pouring his bowl of cereal and having the mouse tumble into the bowl. In his surprise, Eames probably stepped on Paws’ tail. The rest of the story was self-explanatory.

“I’m going back into the bathroom,” said Arthur calmly. He felt the pressure behind his eyes. He reached up to rub them. Maybe he could lock himself in the bathroom for a while and pretend this problem would go away.

*~*~*

Eames pushed them into the bedroom, his hands working the buttons on Arthur’s shirt. “Arthur,” breathed Eames between kisses. “I love you, but damn these buttons.”

“Don’t rip them open,” huffed Arthur in response as he concentrated on unfastening Eames’ pants. He shrugged out of his shirt and tossed it aside while Eames slid out of his pants and shirt.

Eames backed them up and tumbled them into bed. He kissed Arthur’s chest before working his way downward and making quick work of Arthur’s pants. Arthur groaned as Eames dipped in his tongue into his navel. He arched while lifting his hips as Eames tugged his pants off.

Eames pulled himself up so he could kiss Arthur breathless. Arthur moaned into the kiss and took the moment to turn them until he was on top – all the while, not breaking the kiss.

Arthur swallowed Eames protest and soon had Eames squirming as he trailed kisses along his body. Arthur wanted to get to more interesting parts.

“Arthur.” Eames shuddered as Arthur blew over his arousal.

Arthur smirked and darted his tongue out for a taste. Then he felt something odd running up his side and onto his back. He tensed. Instantly he reached back to bat at whatever it was and came in contact with something furry.

“Shit!” swore Arthur as he leapt off of Eames and off the bed. The mouse dropped from his back and landed onto Eames’ abdomen.

Eames glanced down, bewildered at the sudden lack of contact when he saw the mouse sitting on his stomach. He didn’t yelp, but it was damn close as he brushed the mouse off of him and onto the floor.

The mouse struck the ground running. It was out the door before either of them could react.

Eames sat on the edge of the bed, shaking for a different reason. “That was…”

“Yeah…” Arthur shuddered. He wasn’t in the mood anymore, and he desperately wanted a shower – anything to get rid of the feeling of scampering feet on his back.

*~*~*

Arthur and Eames sat on the couch, watching a movie. “Are you going to get it?” asked Arthur as he watched the mouse crawl across the coffee table in front of them.

Eames shook his head. “No, you?”

Arthur also shook his head. He nudged Paws on his lap. “What about you? You going to catch the mouse?”

Paws chose to be in Arthur’s lap because she’s still angry with Eames for stepping on her tail. She looked up when Arthur prompted and blinked over at the mouse. Disinterested, she curled back into a ball.

“I guess that answers that question,” stated Arthur.

“Is it just me or is that mouse getting bolder?” Eames pointed at the mouse. The mouse took a kernel of popcorn in its paws and began nibbling.

“I don’t think it views us as a threat anymore,” agreed Arthur.

The mouse finished crossing the table and climbed down. Then it disappeared behind the TV. Both Arthur and Eames continued to sit as if nothing happened.

“Right,” said Eames flatly. They weren’t giving up – not really. “I think the mouse won this round.”

 **If You Can’t Beat Them…  
**  
Over morning coffee, Eames presented Arthur with a card key. “What is this?” asked Arthur, while he stared at the card on the table.

“It’s the key to our hotel room,” replied Eames as he buttered toast and handed it Arthur. After Arthur took a bite of toast, Eames shook out two pills and gave them to Arthur. He knew Arthur had a headache. This was starting out to be a daily routine.

Arthur began to wear a little thin. He looked impeccable as usual, but there were stress lines between his brows. His eyes came in and out of focus at times and he held his shoulders slightly slumped.

“I don’t understand.” Arthur’s mind was slightly sluggish during this time as well. “Why do we have to check into a hotel?”

Eames smiled patiently at his lover. “You need to sleep, and I need sex. We can have both in a five star hotel.”

Arthur shook his head and rubbed his face. “This is ridiculous. We have to move out because we can’t catch a damn mouse.” He sighed, sounding defeated. This didn’t bode well for Arthur. “We might have to call the exterminator.”

“We can call the exterminator if you want, but you can decide better after you have a good night’s sleep.” Eames reached and cupped Arthur’s hand. “I booked the room for three days. We need this before our brains turn to mush with frustration.”

Arthur looked up at Eames, his brows furrowing. “You might be right.” Arthur shook his head. “This isn’t by far over.”

“Of course not, darling,” said Eames reassuringly, rubbing his thumb over Arthur’s knuckles. “Just for a few days, we’ll be back to pulling our hairs out with trying to rid ourselves of the pesky pest.”

Paws chose that time to meow, temporarily catching Eames’ attention. “Arthur, take a look at this,” said Eames with a hint of amusement.

Arthur also turned and saw in the corner of the kitchen where they placed Paws’ food. Paws was licking milk out of her saucer. The mouse was inching towards the next bowl of kitty kibble. Paws meowed again when she saw the mouse stretch forward for her kibble but returned to her milk. Arthur swore he saw Paws shrug.

Eames carefully maneuvered out his chair. He gave Arthur a quick glance before he slowly crouched down. He made sure his movements were slow as he stretched his arm out.

The mouse, preoccupied with the kitty kibble, didn’t realize Eames’ approaching hand. Eames brought his hand down and nabbed the mouse by its tail. “Ha,” he huffed triumphantly as he picked up the mouse. The mouse swung and twisted itself, trying to get free to no avail.

Arthur already had a glass jar for Eames to deposit the mouse. After over a week of this mouse hunt, they caught the mouse because, what, the mouse was overconfident? Arthur felt this was all anticlimactic somehow.

“So what do we do with it now?” Eames poked at the glass jar where the mouse stood on its hind legs with its front paws on the side of the glass. Its nose twitched where Eames’ fingertips were. Was the thing trying to be friendly?

“We could take it out to the field and let it go,” suggested Arthur. He didn’t want to kill the thing now that they contained the rodent.

“And let the little bastard tell all its wee friends where we live. I think not,” stated Eames defiantly.

Arthur raised his brows. “And you think I’m paranoid. Okay, what do you purpose we do then?”

Eames’ lips blossomed into a toothy smile. “I have an idea.” He took the jar and beckoned Arthur to follow him out the door. Arthur had a sinking feeling about Eames’ ideas, but he followed him anyways.

Their first stop was to the vet, then the pet shop, and the nice Chinese restaurant they both liked before heading home.

“I can’t believe I’m agreeing to this,” said Arthur as he unloaded the food onto some plates. The vet checked their furry friend with a bill of clean health. They also found the gender of the mouse along the way.

“The mouse is practically housetrained from being with us for so long.” Eames was in the process of setting up the mouse cage, which was multileveled with plenty of tubes for the mouse to crawl and climb. The cage also came with a running wheel. “Paws appears to enjoy his company.”

They also brought a roundabout ball, which was what the mouse was in. At the moment the roundabout ball was rolling around in the living room while Paws trailed behind it. Sometimes Paws leapt at the ball playfully, missing drastically, or pawing it gently.

“So _now_ Paws is interested in chasing the mouse.” Arthur shook his head. The little things he dealt with were unbelievable.

“What are you planning on naming him?” Done with the cage, Eames nabbed a piece of chicken off of Arthur’s plate.

Arthur scowled as he halfheartedly batted Eames’ hand away. “Rem,” he answered without much thought. The name came naturally to him.

“Rem? As in Rapid Eye Movement?” snorted Eames.

“Why not? I lost a lot of REM sleep over this.” Arthur shrugged. “It’s better than the name you gave our cat.” He had a tickled feeling when he said ‘our cat.’

“Oi.” Eames placed a hand over his heart. “You wound me, love.”

Arthur sighed before handing Eames his plate of food before tucking into his meal. “Shut up and eat your food, Mr. Eames.”

They sat eating, while watching their pets play. Arthur never considered having pets. Yet watching Rem, the bane of his life only a week ago, roll around in that plastic ball followed by Paws gave Arthur a sense of family. He couldn’t help smiling.

“Hey Arthur,” said Eames around a mouth full. “What do you think about adopting a child?”

“No.”

 _Fin_  
 


End file.
